


The Man Who Sold the World

by Beta_Silver



Category: Metal Gear, Metal Gear Solid
Genre: Alcohol, Canonical Character Death, Kaz knows everything, Non-Graphic Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Strong Language, We all know it was him who did it, post-Metal Gear (1995), pre-Shadow Moses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beta_Silver/pseuds/Beta_Silver
Summary: At the end of a long day of winter, Master Miller is tired. An unwelcome guest makes his appearance to complete his mission.
Relationships: Big Boss & Ocelot (Metal Gear), Big Boss/Kazuhira Miller, Big Boss/Kazuhira Miller/Ocelot, Kazuhira Miller & Ocelot, Kazuhira Miller & Solid Snake, Kazuhira Miller & Venom Snake, Kazuhira Miller/Ocelot, Kazuhira Miller/Venom Snake, Ocelot & Venom Snake (Metal Gear)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Man Who Sold the World

It was still snowing outside, has been for three days straight now. That didn’t help Miller’s aching bones and tensed muscles, the cold and unforgiving winter days made his prosthetic limbs feel heavier and colder on his body.

The blonde man entered his office letting out a sigh and removing his protective sunglasses, the room was showered by weak blue light – he had left the blinders open, and the large wooden desk was bathed in the full moon’s light.

A night for predators.

The tired soldier craved the soft touch of his armchair, but not before a well-deserved drink. He approached the cabinet on the side of the room, not even bothering turning the lights on. There was a bottle of strong bourbon – perfect to soothe his pain a little. He never considered himself a heavy drinker, but a glass here and there helped with the job.

The job. What was even “the job” anymore. The question came and went, Miller shook it away and reached for the bottle. But his hand stopped mid air for a second, just one second.

The bottle had been moved.

He knew because, with time, its bottom had left a circular print on the cabinet’s shelf, staining the wood forever drop by drop and Miller, ever the routineer, always made sure to put back the bottle right on that print. You never know. But now it wasn’t, the bottle was just slightly off the circle.

Miller kept his breathing even, reached for the bottle and grabbed it, calmly, then moved to pick a glass. He didn’t even bother to turn, he spoke:

“You came here to finish the job?”

And so, the voice came from the darkest corner in the room, opposite from where Miller was standing.

“It’s good to see you again, _Kaz_.”

The familiar voice sent a grim shiver along Miller’s spine, who only then found the strength to turn and face the other man who was walking out of the darkness at the same time, his figure appearing slowly before Miller’s eyes: the spurs on his boots clicking with every slow step, the old sand-colored coat rustling in the still air of the room, the flashing red scarf secured around his neck.

Miller spared a look into his old comrade’s eyes, who stared back with glistening eyes in the dark. Something about “Revolver” Ocelot had always made Miller feel uneasy: he remembered vividly their old days on Mother Base, he often spotted him pacing around the base’s decks barking orders, training at the shooting range, hell, he even saw him play with DD once. And every time there was something in the _feline_ way he moved, in his inscrutable gaze, that made Miller tap into alert mode.

Mother Base. _Boss_. That big fucking lie.

It was all ending tonight.

“I see you helped yourself here…” Miller spoke, escaping his bitter memories. He walked towards his chair behind the desk while Ocelot moved simultaneously to take a seat right across.

“No, I’m not in the mood for a drink.” The spy responded, adjusting his coat. The leather of his gloves cracked loudly.

Miller lowered his eyes on his glass, staring at the distorted bottom of it. He might as well enjoy one last drink before the motherfucker in front of him completed the mission he was sent to accomplish. Yet, the pride burning within Miller’s chest just couldn’t give in so easily, he had fought for so long, he had given his life, his own body, to a cause and to _a man_ , his best friend, only to find out that it was all a dirty scheme.

_Removing’s a man’s identity to implant a new one, except it wasn’t new._

_And lying. Again and again._

“Did _he_ send you?” the blonde, tired, soldier asked. Spitting the words, not even trying anymore to hide the hint of disgust he was feeling.

“Kaz…”

“It’s Miller.” He snapped, looking straight into Ocelot’s eyes without fear, he was met in return with a smirk. The cheeky bastard knew he’d already won. Miller knew he’d already lost. A long time ago.

“Master Miller…” Ocelot punctuated every syllable mockingly “I don’t have to tell you the story again, you knew this was going to happen. _V has died_. He served his purpose and perished with honor. Your boy accomplished his mission. Impressive young man, you must be proud of him.”

_David._

For a second, Miller felt crushed by guilt: he couldn’t deny to himself that he had trained the perfect soldier, Solid Snake, out of pure spite – at least in the beginning, when the green beret had no idea what he was about to become, what he was about to become a part of – and in return the boy followed him blindly and trusted him with his life on the battlefield.

“But now it is time to move on, Kaz…” Ocelot fumbled with his scarf

Miller didn’t ever bother to correct him, he knew it was pointless.

“You’ve been a part of this too and, please, do not think that we are not grateful for all that you have done.”

“Fuck you, Ocelot.” The blonde spat out.

Ocelot giggled.

“Fuck you. Fuck _your_ Boss.” He chugged the bourbon in one single gulp, let it burn his throat and empty stomach “Just plant a damn bullet in my brain and call it a night. I am tired.” The last sentence came out heavily.

Miller was tired. Beyond any physical or mental exhaustion he had ever felt in his life.

He was ready to go.

Ocelot was silent.

“But know this, Ocelot, I am not dying for _your_ cause.” The soldier stared straight into the spy’s eyes, making sure that every word hit him like a bullet which – ironically – was what was about to end his very own life on that cold night.

“And what are you dying for, Kaz?” the spy asked, unfazed.

Miller thought about David.

“For _legacy_.”

“ _Oh_. You mean David.”

Bastard. Mocking, son of a bitch.

Miller realized he was shaking only we he noticed Ocelot standing up from the chair.

Here it comes.

“He will stop you.” Words started coming out of his mouth like water out of a collapsing dam “He will stand tall before both you and Big Boss.”

“Why? Because _you_ trained him to be infallible?”

“No, because he is _different_. He’s not a sociopath like that kid you took under your wing, Ocelot. He is not rotten inside, full of sorrow and rage.”

Ocelot only nodded in return, his imposing frame shadowing the blonde man.

“I will not shoot you, Kaz. Believe it or not, I’ve always respected you. For sure more than you ever respected me, but it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

Miller stilled in his chair. What was the endgame, then?

“Why don’t you go and sleep it off, Kaz. You, more than anybody, deserve to rest.”

_The bourbon_.

Miller laughed, and it was genuine. In the end, he hadn’t even been granted the honor to be killed by the legendary _Shalashaska_. No. Poisoned. Like a filthy rat.

“Farewell, old friend.” The spy turned his back on him and moved towards the door, his boots clinking loudly, he opened the door and Miller saw, as clear as the sun, the guards who were supposed to protect _him_ , make reverently way for Ocelot to pass by.

He laughed again, a little louder.

It was all a big joke.

He was just another piece.

A heartbeat faltered in his chest.

Miller fell back onto his chair and welcomed the eternal sleep.

In two days, Solid Snake was to be deployed on the Shadow Moses island.

He was going to win.

_Godspeed, David._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! After devouring the Metal Gear Saga in a couple of months, my mind still can't completely process all that it's seen. I came out with this in a day and poured it out as soon as it came, all the possible mistakes included. It is also my very first published work here. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.
> 
> This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Metal Gear Solid saga created by Hideo Kojima. I do not claim ownership on any of the characters and situations mentioned in the story. The story I tell here about is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of Kojima's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.


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